


The sound of silence

by taralynden



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taralynden/pseuds/taralynden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheeljack muses on Bluestreak and on the meanings of silence</p>
            </blockquote>





	The sound of silence

The humans have a saying: _Silence is golden_. I'm not sure they even believe it, though. There's a song that uses that line, and it seems to me it's more sad than approving.

Many of us in this motley crew are forceful characters, strong within ourselves and well able to make ourselves heard when we need to. I think the war has made us that way; the quiet, the ineffectual, the peaceable all fell by the wayside as the violence got worse.

And me? Sure, I can be noisy. Get me excited and I can talk for groons. Others are much the same, even the quiet ones in the right situation: Red Alert and Prowl giving lectures, Gears and Huffer complaining, Perceptor and Beachcomber making a discovery.

There's one among us, though, that we verbally acknowlege as loquacious, and most of the time he accepts the assessment with a smile. Bluestreak.

Really it has nothing to do with how much he talks, or what he says or how he says it. In spite of our teasing we all know he doesn't talk constantly, and he does think before he speaks and he does have a lot of good things to say. I've spent time with him just staring at the stars or enjoying some music. And he's a terrific listener when I'm rambling on.

Today's silence isn't a companionable one, though. It's isolating and dark and emotional.

He thinks no-one notices when he gets depressed, and in that he's completely wrong. _Everyone_ notices. Most steer clear, not wanting to trigger an even greater withdrawal, and seek out one of those he trusts. Recently that's me, more often than not.

Jazz was holding a furious mock-argument with several others when Bluestreak came in to slump at the table beside me, and skillfully modulated it away to a less controversial topic. Warpath had been telling a violent story about a Decepticon attack on a Neutral base he had been defending once but now claimed a forgotten errand and hurried away.

Whether it was Warpath's doing or someone else's, within moments Prowl entered for long enough to inform everyone that there had been a change of roster. He did not look at Bluestreak directly but held my gaze briefly, intently, before gesturing to Jazz who was now suddenly assigned on duty. Bluestreak roused out of his stupor long enough to make a half-sparked protest that Jazz had already done his shift, but the TIC simply grinned at him and assured him that it was no trouble at all.

Seeing my chance, I tapped Bluestreak's shoulder wheel, catching his attention.

"Looks like we've both got the shift free. Want to go for a drive through the city?"

He stares at me as though only now realising I'm there, then gives a troubled smile and assents softly.

I lead the way, chattering as much as he normally would, and gradually I start to get some responses. It's worth it. The humans are wrong: silence isn't golden, it's as black and cold as the depths of space. Gold is the spark of life.


End file.
